Sadistic Tendencies
by Fantasie in D Minor
Summary: Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor! He would not be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the redhead.
1. The Length of a Cigarette

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. The dreadfully long descriptions, however, are mine

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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In heaven all the interesting people are missing.

**Friedrich Nietzsche **

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**The Length of a Cigarette **

Standing in a dark alleyway, under the dimmed light of a broken streetlamp, with the trademark smirk worthy of the devil himself, the red-headed Turk was idly watching smoke rise in a swirl from the lit tip of a cigarette, which was firmly held in his aristocratically pale, long fingers. His navy blue suit faded into the shadows, giving the tattered, white shirt as well as the sterile bandages underneath a ghostly glow. The light from above served to saturate the color of his hair and scars while not clearing the darkness enough to distinguish his features. The red-head was leaning casually against the western wall of a brick building, balancing his weight on the heels of his black, dirtied dress shoes. His head was turned towards the broad street, which served as a perpendicular line, separating the alley and the ShinRa Headquarters.

With childish fascination, Reno's glowing, aquamarine eyes followed the zigzagged path of the gray, translucent smoke, but that wasn't truly the focal point of his attention. He was, in fact, rather diligently studying the silhouette of a young woman in a navy blue suit, much like his own, who was standing motionless at the entrance to the company building. Reno already had the misfortune to find out from Tseng that his substitute, due to the young man's injuries, for the time being was to be a woman; but now that he saw the perfectly ironed suit, the dignified stance, the blonde hair, and the serious expression on her face, his mild displeasure at the fact was quickly turning into disgust. They hired a blonde bimbo, with an upturned nose, and a superiority complex to substitute _him_? _'Oh boy, this is rich.' _Reno felt the bitter after-taste of being degraded as he took a long drag from his cigarette to kill the unpleasant flavor.

The Turk gave an introspective look to his injured form. A slashed shoulder, a wounded knee, a long cut running across his abdomen…all in all, he wasn't worse for wear. Strife and co. didn't do so fine of a job. He looked back at the blonde rookie and inhaled another dose of nicotine. Reno could almost hear the high-pitched complaining about getting blood on her spotless, white shirt. _'She is in for it.' _Reno concluded his musing in, somewhat sadistic, glee.

With a saddened look at his burnt down to the core cigarette, he flung the object aside and started down the busy street towards the entrance of ShinRa. A vivid picture of a gun trained at the blonde woman's forehead flashed in the red-head's mind as he was drawing closer to the Headquarters. Such a situation was bound to occur at one point or another (one of the dangers of being a Turk), but that certainly didn't explain the fairly maniacal glint in his bright eyes at the thought. Reno never considered himself a sadist…but he never lacked sadistic tendencies either.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I would like to apologize for the shortness of it, but I promise that the following entries will be much longer Please tell me what you think, all of your opinions are welcome.


	2. The Swallowed Echo

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. The dreadfully long descriptions, however, are mine

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

**Friedrich Nietzsche **

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**The Swallowed Echo**

Reno's lethargic walking towards the ShinRa Headquarters was rather rudely interrupted when his feet hit the elevated pavement in front of the entrance. Before he could take another step, a cheerily smiling face popped into his line of vision… a cheerily smiling face of the 'stick-up-her-ass blondie' (nickname courtesy of Reno).

"You must be Reno." The red-head had to resist the urge to wince at the high-pitched salute. "I'm Elena. It's a pleasure to meet you." The blonde woman stretched out her hand; the smile not faltering despite Reno's blatantly less than sociable expression. As much as the young man would like to ignore her, the common laws of courtesy pushed his otherwise immobile hand to shake Elena's outstretched one.

"I know." He said cockily, briskly withdrawing his hand back to the safety of his pocket. The young woman ignored the impolite comment, and plunged into another—what was soon to be failed—attempt at making conversation.

"Tseng had nothing but the most wonderful things to say about you." _'Tseng said you're a slob and an insubordinate employee, but I'm going to turn everything into a compliment because you're of higher rank.' _Reno translated the sentence for himself. He demonstratively checked his watch and continued unhurriedly moving towards the entrance.

"I'm sure." Reno made certain to sound unconvinced. When the red-head was allowed to enter the accursed building with no further interruptions, he was sure that the woman gave up on trying to 'make friends' with him. He paused a few steps into the lobby and dug around in his pocket before withdrawing his beloved cigarette pack. Making sure to light the cancer stick right in front of the 'NO SMOKING' sign, he went on towards the elevators. A few rushed employees stopped to give the young man a disapproving speech, but after realizing that the young man in question was Reno, quickly decided against it.

With a satisfied grin, due to the tremendously merry event of getting rid of the blondie, Reno hobbled into the elevator and pressed the 66th floor button. One can only imagine his surprise, and utter disappointment, when a feminine hand shot in between the closing elevator doors and with a beep the said doors flew open to reveal the 'kiss-ass rookie'(another nickname courtesy of Reno) herself.

"The building is a non-smoking zone." She informed him matter-of-factly, leaning her back onto one of the glass walls. Reno's eyebrow started twitching involuntarily in a nervous manner. _'She has no idea who she's talking to.' _

"Your point being?" He inquired nonchalantly, taking another drag from his cigarette. Elena's calm examination of her nails ceased abruptly, and she gave the Turk a rather dumbfounded look.

"You're not allowed to smoke inside this building." Reno inhaled another dose of nicotine and exhaled the smoke into Elena's stern face.

"Who says?" The blonde coughed lightly, covering her mouth with her left hand.

"The rules!" She chocked out, an indignant expression starting to settle over her features.

"Duh, the rules." Reno rolled his eyes heavenwards and let an infuriating smirk slide onto his lips. "Who says the rules apply to me?" Elena's retort froze on the tip of her tongue. The two suit-clad figures stared at each other until the both of them heard a beep, signaling their arrival on the 66th floor. Pulling herself into a rigid posture and straightening out her already impeccably straight jacket, Elena threw her nose in the air and marched out of the elevator.

Reno was left to hobble out after her with his unwavering smirk engraved firmly into his flawless features. What could he say? Getting on people's nerves was what he did best. There was a reason Tseng always called the red-head a sadist…a very good reason.

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Let us leave the confines of the ShinRa building for just a moment and transfer to a place that's a bit darker. Of course, it is rather debatable whether or not there could be a place darker than ShinRa, but for imagination's sake let's imagine. Picture a dark alleyway stretching the distance of 500 feet with exactly two streetlights standing on each end. One marks the opening and the second marks the closing. Now distort the straight line of the alley until it looks like a maze. Make sure to make it a very complicated one…complicated enough to get lost in easily.

Please, visualize a person running through the aforementioned maze. The person is a male of about 25 with jet black hair and grey eyes. He is desperately trying to find the exit or the entrance; he doesn't care which one by this point. He turns left, right, left, left, and runs into yet another dead end. He's sick and tired of this mouse trap. He starts hitting the wall, which prevents his escape, with his bare palms covering the flesh of his hands with crimson liquid. His hands are bleeding, his leg is bleeding from a previous injury, and there are lacerations and bruises all over his body and face.

He screams something, but the pocket of buildings swallows the sound, not allowing so much as an echo to escape. He starts running again…right, right, right, left, and another dead end. His breathing is labored, and his eyes are staring to shine with the moist sparkle of tears. He's going left, left, left, left, right, and then he sees it…his sanctuary. He sees the one object he's been looking for, for the past five hours. With renewed vigor and the will to survive he makes one last mad dash for the streetlight at the end of the alley. Six more feet, five more feet, just a few more steps and he'll be able to forget this night ever occurred.

Fate, however, is a cruel hag. One thin, crimson line of blood trails out of his mouth and down his chin. He drops to his knees and within another moment plummets face first into the hard concrete, dead. The pocket of skyscrapers swallowed yet another sound…a gun shot.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if this is still a bit short. I'm trying to get most of the introductory stuff out there so we can move on to the more interesting events in the story.


	3. Unfortunate Coincidence

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. The extensive torturing of the red-head is, however, mine.

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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The gods too are fond of a joke.

**Aristotle **

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**Unfortunate Coincidence **

Sanity was an object that Tseng was desperately trying to cling to. As desperate as his slippery grip was, however, those last shreds of common sense were still slowly slipping through his long fingers. He often wondered if the red-head was driving him off the rocker on purpose, but never entertained the question aloud. Watching the unfolding scene in front of him, however, made Tseng realize that the time for voicing his concerns would have to come much sooner than he would have liked.

The Wutaian carefully examined Elena's stern face and cold stare directed at the 'devil incarnate,' who kept his expression carefully neutral to the inquisitive gaze of his boss. A genius was not required to make a rather accurate prediction on what might have transpired not a minute before the duo entered the Turks' offices. Reno and Elena met without his supervision; Tseng could only imagine Reno's atrocious behavior. The Wutaian dreaded this particular case scenario since hiring Elena, and as luck would have it, everything transpired exactly how it wasn't supposed to.

Tseng glanced over at the only source of good sense within the walls of the square-shaped room (a.k.a. Rude). The man was quietly shuffling through a report, forcibly ignoring the occasional smirks Reno sent his way. Tseng resisted the urge to rub his temples, and instead settled for simply closing his eyes for a few seconds. After reopening the pair of black orbs, and seeing that the scenery hasn't changed, Tseng took in a jagged breath and began the meeting, with a look of a condemned man. With the orders he received, not to mention the current disposition of the two people who those orders pertained to most, he could already tell that this was going to be one, _long _night.

"Good evening." The Wutaian started with his usual calm, even if it was a bit forced.

"Evening, sir." A feminine voice echoed the greeting cheerfully. Apparently, Elena's flamboyant nature took over her initial foul mood at the prospect of her first important conference in a Turk uniform. A light snort could be heard from the couch, which Tseng took to mean that Reno responded. The Wutaian turned his head towards Rude to catch the barely perceptible nod; and so the pleasantries were out of the way. Second order of business: the unnecessary introductions. Tseng was about to commence with the aforementioned second part, but Reno preceded the action, in the process cutting the, somewhat peaceful, atmosphere off at the root.

"No need for introductions, Tseng." As was the custom for Reno, the—to an extent—pleasant baritone was thick with mocking humor. "We've already had the tremendous _pleasure _of meeting." Elena's gradually brightening face dimmed abruptly.

"Indeed." The blonde answered in cold monotone. The execution was nowhere near as masterful as Tseng's, but for a petite woman of 5 foot 2—even Reno had to admit—that was pretty impressive. As an amusedly surprised expression settled over the red-head's face, Tseng had to substitute rolling his eyes with closing them again. Upon opening the black pools, and despite his prayers, still finding himself in the offices, Tseng decided to ignore that exchange completely and move on.

"Rude, Elena, you've already met, I believe?" The two nodded soundlessly. None of the three were coming to his aid in gluing this conversation together. Tseng sighed softly and dropped the two vanilla-colored folders that were resting in his arms up to that point onto his desk.

"The Turks were given two assignments." He cut the untying exchange off abruptly. "Both were issued as an order by the president himself."

"Does that mean I can leave?" Reno asked hopefully. It took enough of the red-head's energy to simply drag his ass into the offices that evening; he'd much rather not sit through the excruciatingly boring briefing about missions he wasn't going to participate in anyway. Tseng shook his head and a sinister smile twisted the straight line of his lips; the same sinister smile that Reno referred to as 'death's calm grin' on numerous occasions.

"Certainly not. One of those aforementioned assignments is, in fact, addressed to you…" Tseng made an unbearably long pause to worsen the melodramatic effect "and Elena." A smile instantly lit Elena's curious features. She was already given an assignment, and it was only her first evening as a Turk! In her glee, she didn't even think to note the name of her partner. Reno on the other hand, not being a stranger to issued orders, concentrated _all _his attention on the fact that he'd have to work…no, not work…be stuck with Elena. The young man blanched, making the flaming scars that adorned his high cheekbones burn even brighter.

"Oh joy!" Reno sharply accentuated each syllable in highlighted sarcasm. Not that said sarcasm could have slipped the attention of those present without the extra measure.

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As was the custom, the alarm clock on his bedside table rang at six in the morning (sharp) and was smashed promptly (and rather unceremoniously) against the wall, which took it's residence opposite the red-head's bed. A nice, deep dent of a decoration spread on the said wall instantaneously to the chorus of the clock's mechanism falling in small metallic pieced to the wooden floor. How Reno had enough energy with his scratched up shoulder for such a throw, even he couldn't say; but, something about early morning and alarm clocks never ceased to enrage him. The fact that his memory didn't fail to remind him of the _unfortunate _fortune befalling him (a.k.a. this being the first day he'd have to work with Elena), didn't ease the punishment for the poor, newly bought alarm clock.

With a groan and an outburst of beautifully vibrant swearing, Reno rolled off the bed in a tangle of black sheets. When he landed on his injured leg (hard), the vibrant swearing smoothly turned into a vivid description of how the red-head was going to kill whoever thought up the idea of alarm clocks. Perhaps, the muffled narrative of the homicide would be a bit too brutal for the purposes of this story, but you can be assure that it involved a lot of blood…and screaming.

As Reno's breath hitched in his throat to suppress a yelp of pain, the red-head stumbled to his feet against the unwillingness of his soar muscles to cooperate. With another growl of "fuck" for good measure, he hobbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He turned on the water and was about to commence with undressing (hopefully without killing himself) when he heard a loud knock on the door. With a moan of displeasure he decided to ignore it; but after hearing the same sound a second time, logic kicked in through the hazy confines of his mind. He was in the bathroom, with the water running, yet he could hear the knocking with electrifying clarity. Something was very wrong with this picture. After a few more seconds, in which his mind finally decided to start functioning properly, Reno realized that the knocking wasn't coming form the front of his apartment. It was coming from the other side of the bathroom door.

In one jerky movement he jumped to the door swinging it open only to have a fist collide lightly with his chest. Reno's aquamarine eyes narrowed in annoyance as he pushed the feminine hand away forcefully.

"Well, good morning to you too." An equally feminine voice (to match the hand) washed over the tired Turk. Reno sighed in defeat and walked back into the bathroom, making sure to slam the door twice as loud as was necessary. "Gotcha! I'll make myself at home!" Elena's sarcastic remark drifted through the closed door.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying the story so far. The investigation will commence the next chapter (with the explanation of what it is of course). I'll try to have that one up sooner XD Please R&R, the comments are always encouraging.


	4. Swings to Chaos

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. All I own is the Tom and Jerry cup XD

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him.

**Mark Twain**

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**Swings to Chaos **

Reno stumbled into his kitchen _blessing _absolutely everything in his path and the accursed AVALANCHE along with everything else for good measure. Perhaps some of those cordial blessing wouldn't be beneficial to repeat in this narration, but winged phrases such as "that PMSing Strife character should have his feathers ruffled…no, he should be flat out de-feathered" or "Mrs. Watermelon Boobs I-hang-off-a-psycho's-arm-24/7 should have her wonderful vocal chords cut out…no, ripped out" made their appearance numerous times. It was safe to say that Elena was more than a bit amused at the red-head's _pleasurable_ promises of a painful death to every AVALANCHE member, _wonderfully _vivid descriptions of the demise of every ShinRa employee, and the most _cordial _wishes of an agonizing termination to all doctors on the face of the planet. In fact, Reno's especially _cheerful _disposition that morning dictated that life would only be worth living once every 'moron' (would the reader please forgive the brash red-head for using that derogatory term to illustrate the mental capacity of every human being to ever walk the face of the Earth) was wiped out, eliminated, murdered in the most brutal of fashions.

And what, one might logically wonder, would trigger such an uproar of a reaction? One would be rather surprised to find that Reno was set into his _agreeable _state of being by an innocent white, sterile strip of material. That was it! Of course, the fact that the name of that white piece of material is a bandage and the red-head had to wrap it around his painful (still open to an extent) wound on his shoulder had something to do with the dark cloud of annoyance tainting the vibrant color of the young man's hair, also.

With a beastly growl at the amusedly upturned corners of Elena's mouth, Reno marched to one of the cupboards and started rifling through the contents making sure to present an encore of a few of his favorite choice words. Certainly for those who know Reno, it would come as no surprise that the list of those aforementioned choice words is rather long; thus, the red-head spent more time cursing than actually looking for the object that seemed to have held his fancy at the moment.

"Where the fuck are you?" He mumbled out and followed the phrase up with an irritated glower. He wasn't sure why he was glaring at the middle shelf of his cupboard like an idiot, but it surely felt like a better solution than giving up on getting his cup. Yes, just like most _normal _people Reno had a favorite cup, which he drank coffee out of every morning. It was a navy blue color, with the picture of Tom and Jerry on the font, and a decorated handle (which looked like Tom's tale). Before you say anything—yes, Reno did watch cartoons; and—yes, his favorite cartoon of all time was Tom and Jerry. That's what happens when you have more than a dozen murders in your hazy past to back up your masculinity.

"And who, may I ask, are you so _gently _coaxing out of that cupboard?" Reno condensed his hands into fists and did a sharp 180 to end up face to face with the smirking Elena, who was perched on one of the barstools. The scene was supposed to play out like this: he'd scream out everything he thought about her (including nicknames such as "bimbo," "dumb blonde," "kiss-ass-rookie," "courtesan," "woman," and whatever other insult would come to mind…considering that Reno's supply of original insults almost never runs out, however, the future looked rather bleak for Elena); for her part, the blonde was supposed get upset (a.k.a. act like the stereotypical woman Reno presumed her to be), cry, run out of his house, and never show her nose at the ShinRa Headquarters again.

As wonderful as that fantasy was though, in reality nothing of the sort happened. The moment Reno turned around, his scattered, furious thoughts calmed abruptly and concentrated on an object in Elena's hands. It was navy blue, with a picture of Tom and Jerry on the front, and a decorated handle. Apparently, while waiting for the red-head to finish his shower, Elena took the liberty of making herself coffee and took Reno's favorite cup.

Sighing in relief at his beloved morning buddy's safety, Reno sank onto the barstool across form Elena, separating the duo by a wide island. For some reason his previous, homicidal thoughts vanished completely and only a faint foreboding feeling was left as a substitute. The said feeling hit him full force when he noticed a vanilla-colored folder laid out on the island in front of Elena. He sighed and glared half-heartedly at his death by boredom. Yes, it was the briefing folder. _'And let the fun begin.' _

"That's my cup." If the red-head resigned himself to fate, it certainly didn't mean he wouldn't stretch time for the sake of being obnoxious. Elena rolled her eyes at the Turk across from her.

"This is your house after all. All the cups are your cups." She shrugged her shoulders and took a swig of the much needed caffeine. Hey, even her flamboyant nature needed a recharge this early in the morning. The red-head shook his head furiously.

"What I mean is that's _my _cup." Elena quirked an eyebrow but quickly caught up to what he was talking about.

"Not good with words in the morning, sunshine?" Reno shot a brief glance outside his window. The usual gray colors of sleepy Midgar greeted the dull aquamarine eyes.

"It's not just the morning. It's the medicine." He slurred just a little. No, the rumble with the accursed AVALANCHE wasn't cheap to the red-head's health. To lessen the pain of his injuries, he was required to take a dosage of medicine every morning. Added to his usual eccentricity, he now had painfully blatant mood swings. Elena's brain finally registered why Reno was hyped one moment and then was drowsily leaning his whole weight onto the island the next.

"Think you can stand through the briefing?" The blonde asked, a little of that motherly concern involuntarily rising in her voice, gesturing to the folder in front of her. Reno gave her a goofy grin.

"Of course! Take it away then, rookie." She gave him a nasty glare for the nickname.

"I already read it. You're the one who has to get the information." With a roll of his eyes Reno picked up the folder and flipped it open. He took out the twenty pages of text and laid them out in front of him being carefully organized. Elena could only look on in approval as he _diligently _studied the report. Of course, all the previous thoughts of that diligence were fast out of her mind the moment he opened his mouth.

"A murder, blah, blah, blah…downtown Midgar, blah, blah…the President's nephew, blah, blah…criminal caught and killed." He stood up piling the papers in his arms and promptly threw the whole twenty pages of Tseng's work into the trashcan. "Alright, we can leave." Elena looked at him flabbergasted. Her whole image of what a true Turk should be like was slowly crumbling. With an annoyed growl she jerked out of her seat and ran out the door after the red-head.

"You're a bastard." She noted darkly when they were already in the elevator.

"Redundancy seems to be your strong suite." Apparently the temporary paralysis of the brain that the medicine caused was already loosing its effectiveness…at Elena's expense.

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Unlike Reno, the reader would probably be more interested in finding out what exactly was outlined in that folder. Considering that twenty pages of text is a bit too much, I will try to reproduce the whole report in one paragraph for your convenience:

The victim in the murder that Reno mentioned aloud was the President's nephew. The murder itself was committed in downtown Midgar where, the reader might remember, there's a maze stretching across the length of 500 feet. Yes, the President's nephew did have black hair and ice-blue eyes, and yes, the young man was shot in the back of his head in front of one of the streetlights. His leg was bleeding, his palms were scratched up, and there were bruises and lacerations all over his body and face. The actual order from the President to Reno and Elena was outlined in such a manner:

**Revenge is a sweet thing.**

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading, and thanks so much for the feedback! It's certainly encouraging. Special thanks to Xanthe for keeping me so motivated XD I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Please R&R, whatever your opinion may be, it's always welcomed!


	5. First Chase: 10 Feet

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. The dreadfully long descriptions, however, are mine

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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When anger rises, think of the consequences.

** Confucius**

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**First Chase: 10 Feet**

With a girlish scream, which erupted involuntarily from her throat and wasn't befitting a Turk in the least, Elena jerkily jumped out of the torture machine (more commonly known as Reno's car) and had to forcefully restrain herself from collapsing and kissing the safe Earth beneath her feet. Obviously, Reno's driving skills, no matter how chiseled, mixed with his disregard for speed limits didn't amount to much.

"You suicidal maniac!" were the only coherent words the blonde Turk could sputter out in her indignation, not for the lack of other unintelligible and distressed noises, of course. Reno, however, didn't seem to be phased as he calmly exited the vehicle and stuck a customary cigarette in between his teeth.

"We've arrived." He proclaimed unnecessarily with a mocking, respectful bow. If Elena's malfunctioning, at the moment, mind didn't render her body useless, the young woman would have had a gun within her grasp in a matter of seconds and Reno would be no more; but, to the young man's tremendous luck, the only reaction to his calm demeanor was a rather skillful impersonation of a fish on the blonde's part.

The spat that was sure to follow, however, was cut dismally short as the forming response on the tip of Elena's tongue died without quite making it out in light of a rather rude interruption coming in the shape of a tall man, dressed in a police uniform, with a look of mild distaste spreading itself languidly through his features.

"May I assist you?" The raspy voice, serving as undeniable proof of the owner's inclination to drinking and smoking, made it quite clear that the lengthy man would rather do anything but. Elena buffed up immediately at the level of hostility in the unpleasant greeting. "You look a bit lost."

"A murder has been committed in this alleyway less than 36 hours ago, is that correct?" It was beyond Elena how, with such formal terms, Reno still managed to drawl.

"That is why I assumed you were lost." The red-head didn't take offense to the derogatory remark and instead opted for taking out his ShinRa employee ID card and waving it until a sign of frustrated recognition shown on the police officer's face. Elena had to refrain from chuckling as the degrading fashion in which Reno was showing off his free pass to any crime scene worked to increase her amusement at an alarming rate. "Pardon my mistake." The lengthy character nodded curtly and walked off towards a group of photographers, who seemed to be rather fascinated with the streetlight under which the body lay approximately 12 hours ago sprawled and unmoving.

"What was his problem?" The blonde Turk inquired bemused, letting her eyes trace the path of the retreating figure. Reno shrugged his shoulders in an indifferent manner without giving her an answer. In fact, he wasn't planning on speaking to her in general (he was still rather sour, if anyone was wondering), but his etiquette decided to butt in unasked and unwanted.

"I would imagine that being replaced makes one feel degraded." Imagine? Reno would have to do no such thing. He knew rather well, perhaps better than most, what exactly the bitter feeling was. Elena, on the other hand, didn't quite catch the drift.

"What are you talking about?" The red-head snorted and rolled his eyes heavenwards.

"He's a police officer." He started in a 'this-is-obvious' manner. "It's his investigation, and we're a thorn in his side that he'd much rather get rid of." It took Elena's blue-eyed pools a few seconds before they started shining with the spark of understanding.

"Now that you put it that way, I almost pity him." Reno snorted once again. For some reason, his senses told him that this would become regular practice when dealing with the exuberant blonde.

"I'd like to hear you say that after a week." Elena's wish to question the somewhat obscure comment went unsaid as Reno's attention was drawn away from the conversation at hand and diverted to the left, where a dark figure was just rounding the corner.

After exchanging a glance of confusion the duo simultaneously took off after the speeding subject in question. Elena found, to her mild amusement, that when the situation called for it, Reno's lethargic hobble went away, even if his face shown with the undeniable twist of pain. The two Turks rounded the corner and turned right, following the figure which was already making another right just up front.

Reno was the first one to reach the second turn, but instead of keeping with the momentum, he came to a dead halt, making Elena knock into him lightly from behind. The aggravated young woman rubbed her nose, which came into contact with Reno's stiff back, affectionately.

"Ran out of fuel did we?" Elena asked annoyed. Reno smirked quietly to himself.

"Why yes, in fact, I did." He stepped out of the way and gestured for Elena to go forward. "I think I'll let you keep going with this while I'll lie here dying of exhaustion."

The blonde Turk rolled her eyes and laughed in a pointedly fake way before fully rounding the corner and taking a few steps forward. Her progress, however, was halted rather quickly when she saw what exactly lay in front of her. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the web of paths and turns that were situated straight up the alley, which she only now figured out she entered. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was, in fact, the maze that not two days ago served as the deathbed for the young man with black hair and blue eyes.

"Why did you tell me that…?" Whatever Elena was going to ask was rudely interrupted by the smirking devil incarnate, who was casually leaning on a side of the building.

"You were just so excited about going in there. I simply didn't have the heart to inform you of…" Elena decided to interrupt the innocence rant and growled loud enough to drown out Reno's fast flow of words.

The blonde started contemplating homicide after her pointed clearing of the thrown, but then decided against it in light of Reno's sudden fascination in a spot of pavement right over her shoulder. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow and whirled around to see a black piece of metal that was lying not a 4 feet away from her. On further inspection it looked like a PHS. Reno pushed off the wall with a small shrug at the puzzled look on Elena's face and picked it up. This was going to be interesting, he could already feel it.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I'm really sorry for the late update, but school has been keeping me really busy and I've been practically buried under 2000 page physics and calculus books. Please forgive me! Good news, though: I have the next chapter almost done so you can expect me to post it within the next few days XD And now for the review responses 'cause you are guys are so awesome and deserve them!

Gives **Xanthe **lots of candy and a tight hug: Thanks ever so much for the feedback. Reading your reviews always makes my day and I'm ever so happy that you like the way I write Reno XD That's music to my ears. I'm only sorry that this update took so long!

Hugs **The Blood Splattered Bride**and gives her strawberry lollipops. Thanks for keeping with this story and getting me so motivated! I'm really happy that you're enjoying it, and I'm really sorry about the late update. I promise I WILL get the next chapter up within the next three or so days! "Krov' iz nosa, klianus!" thought some Russian would do good here XD


	6. Innuendo

**Sadistic Tendencies**

**By: Fantasie in D Minor**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own FFVII or any of the sequels/prequels. Just the horrible innuendo.

**Summary: **Reno hated the rookie. It was a principle of honor; he would _not _be substituted by a woman. Tseng should understand that, right?... Too bad mother luck was never very gentle with the red-head.

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We are what we repeatedly do.

**Aristotle **

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**Innuendo**

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Elena inquired, sliding a questioning gaze over her partner in arms, who—might as well be mentioned—wasn't batting an eyelash at her perplexed question. Needless to say, the persisting silence did not thrill the blonde rookie in the least. "Reno!"

"I heard you." The male in question drawled out flippantly. Elena could do nothing but snarl, irritation plainly displayed on the delicate features of her face.

"I'm glad your precious ears haven't given up on you as of yet." The blonde noted icily, not seeming as happy as she claimed to be. She leaned back in her chair and concentrated her gaze on the window, which greeted her with the wet, gray outlines of Midgar. From the 66th floor of the ShinRa building, the undoubtedly trash-littered, gray concrete certainly looked much more appealing. In fact, it seemed that the _whole _city looked much more appealing from this—somewhat—third person perspective. The rain was tirelessly spilling onto the lively streets, and the peaceful scenery below seemed to glisten. A rare and rather magnificent sight, Elena had to admit.

"And that's implying?" Reno cut through the rookie's poetic musingly unceremoniously. It took a few second for the blonde Turk to get her thoughts gathered in a bunch and comprehend what the red-head was referring to, but when she did, an evil grin almost immediately graced the straight line of her lips.

"That's implying that other parts aren't as readily functional." Elena's previous remark was uttered simply for the sake of sarcasm, but considering that Reno was so willingly prompting, how could she skip the opportunity to get under his skin just a little? God knows, he's been doing enough of that for their limited—but ample in diverse events—time as acquaintances.

Reno might not be the most perceptible human being on the face of the planet, but the faint stab at his—in Elena's opinion—impotency problem didn't fly over his head.

"Aw, are we a bit bitter about being preceded for the title of company slut by Scarlett?"

"Why would I be?" The rookie diverted her attention back to the rusty mane, which was the only part of Reno perceptible to her keen eye. The rest of his face was hidden as he bent over the newly acquired piece of evidence (consisting of the PHS), refusing to allow his own dwindling attention to wonder.

"Not being able to find out first hand." The statement was muffled, but certainly not inaudible. Elena could almost imagine the devilish smirk on his hidden face, but couldn't do much more that send a penetrating glare at the crimson mass of hair across the room.

"Sick bastard."

"Why thank you." This time Reno couldn't resist shooting the blonde a triumphant smirk.

"Aren't we mature?" The rookie grounded out sarcastically. "Mature and innocent."

"I _am _innocent." The irony certainly didn't slip past the two occupants of the room.

"You're a sadist." Elena corrected the earlier statement in a matter-of-fact manner. Reno had to admit, that comment was not without basis.

"That would make you a masochist."

"Not if I shoot you."

"That would be against the rules." Reno paused and grinned goofily at her. "And we all know how much you like those." Elena grumbled something under her breath, but decided upon not voicing the elaborate defense.

"Idiot."

"Priss," was the immediate reply.

"Asshole."

"Ditz."

"Smartass."

"Blondie."

"You…you…meanie!" Elena could have slapped herself at that moment. Where the heck did that come from?

"Meanie?" Reno tried holding back the peals of laughter threatening to escape his lips as he repeated the supposed insult. "Come on 'Laney, even _you _could do better than that."

She certainly could! She didn't vocalize most of the murderous thoughts running through her head when the crazy son of a bitch was driving, but they were fully decorated with all kinds of vibrant swearing one could possibly think of. Certainly not something that would normally come out of her mouth, but the damn man was pushing it! She started to protest, but in the course of the second that it took her to start speaking, the content of what came out changed.

"You called me by my name." Reno rolled his eyes and went back to playing with the PHS.

"Brilliant observation Holmes." Elena huffed at the obnoxious remark. No one can really blame her for noticing the use of her name from Reno…this was the first time he pronounced it—mind you a bit distorted—since their first less than pleasant meeting.

"I still think you shouldn't look through the messages on that thing." The rookie, smartly, decided to change the subject and not prompt any more irritating comment from the red-head. At the rate he was going, she'd have to strangle him by the end of the day. _'At least that will ease his shoulder pains that he's been complaining about.' _She mused with an amused grin forming on her face.

"Too late for that." Reno's triumphant smirk was already engraved into his features when he lifted his head. Apparently, his efforts to get into the password-locked 'personals' folder weren't in vain. How he managed that one was beyond Elena, and something was telling her that she didn't want to know. Some things are better left in the dark, otherwise they're detrimental to one's health.

"So what's in there?" Reno quirked an eyebrow at that one.

"And since when did you get so interested?" Elena rolled her eyes heavenwards and walked towards the red-head's desk.

"Since now." Reno decided not to push the topic further. The woman didn't seem in a nice enough disposition for such banter. He quickly went through the list of text messages and after finding that search futile went for the voice mailbox. The young man wasn't exactly sure what he was searching for, but the circumstances under which the phone was found were much too convenient for the piece of technology to not be connected in any way to the fleeing figure from earlier. This silent conjecture was only proven when the synthesized female voice informed Reno that there was one message in the aforementioned voice mailbox.

"_Hopefully my PHS has gotten into the correct hands." _Came a baritone voice as the recorded message started playing. Elena leaned over the desk and pressed her own ear to the other side of the PHS after seeing the somewhat baffled look on Reno's face. _"I have information concerning a murder that I believe could be helpful. This message must remain in complete secrecy. Meet me on the corner crossing of 13th Avenue and Mitchells. Tonight at 9 sharp." _

"And so it was the figure in black." Reno breathed out as he and Elena exchanged a knowing look.

**TBC**

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much for all the reviews! I'm sorry for the lack of responses this chapter. XD I don't have enough time right now and rather than delaying posting I'd rather apologize ten billion times and give everyone big thanks and cookies. Please R&R, and I hope you've enjoyed.


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